


Healing touch

by FenHarelsPride (Andauril)



Series: Siryn Lavellan [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 23:02:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3706905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andauril/pseuds/FenHarelsPride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A particuliar nasty fight against a bunch of rogue templars leaves Siryn Lavellan injured, and Solas - as the groups healer - takes care of her wound.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Healing touch

Siryn whirled her staff, retreating from the approaching Templars, calling upon the void to summon lightning down on them before they could force her hold upon the Fade away. Her lightning bolt hit the closest Templar, staggering him, and she stepped another step back while Cassandra took care of him, her shield smashing against his side and her sword cutting alongside his armor, biting into his flesh.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see the others fighting. Dorian summoned down fire, coating another Templar with flames while he tried to stay out of their reach. Cassandra had engaged in another fight, crossing blades with a heavily armored rogue templar who wielded a great sword as if it weighed nothing.

Solas had two other Templars paralyzed, and fought back a third, slowing him down with an ice rune blooming on the ground, while he circled around the battle field to increase the distance between them.

Siryn waved her staff to channel another lightning bolt through it and it stroke another Templar, staggered him and allowed her to retreat a few steps more before he was able to shake of the effects of her spell. He charged her, and she darted back until her head crushed against a tree behind her and blocked her escape.

Trying to concentrate, she wove another spell. Taking hold of the raw energies of the Beyond, she summoned fire into her hands, a simple but effective charm, and throw them against him. It was a means to slow him down, so she could retreat further and summon a more powerful spell off the Fade to end him …

But the Templar seemed to shrug her magic of, and when she tried to summon lightning down on him to keep him from reaching her, the environmental energy reacted only slowly to her command. She could feel her grasp upon the void dwindling, as much as she tried to hold unto it …

_“Fenedhis!”_

He was using his abilities to cleanse the area of magic!

She tried to circle the tree and retreat, but her enemy was fast. She rolled to the side, her shoulder aching from where he had almost crashed it with his charge, and gripped her staff tighter. If he believed she was an easy victim, she would teach him better …

She used the momentum of her movement to slam her staff into his side before he could recover from his failed attempt to impale her, and grinned satisfied when she heard him whimper.

He pushed himself back from the tree, attacking her with a deep slash and she jumped back, her staff rushing down to parry the strike. He attacked again, blade trying to chop her head off her shoulder, and she couldn’t lift her staff fast enough … Siryn jumped back, trying to bring her staff higher to block whatever attack he through next to her, and the Templar closed the distance between them. His next strike aimed at her hips, and she parried it. Her shoulders and arms ached from the impact, and he showed her an ugly smile.

“You’re a resilient one, aren’t you?” He aimed at her knees and she sidestepped, but her ankle nearly caught in one of the roots. She staggered, only for a moment, but it was enough for him to throw her out of balance. She stumbled back, raising her staff to parry … Her world narrowed until she saw and heard nothing more than him, and she felt her heart pounding loudly inside her chest.

She managed to parry to more of his strikes until he dashed her to the ground. Crushing back-first to the humid earth, she stared as his face neared hers, teeth bared in a nasty grin.

Her heart pounding loudly with panic in her chest, her staff slipped from her grasp, she did the only thing left to her to do. With all her force left in her legs she kicked him in the nuts as hard as she could.

The Templar yelled in pain, the tip of his sword falling from his grasp, and he staggered back, staring at her with watery eyes, panting and cursing “You knife-eared bitch!”

Siryn hurried to get up, grasping her staff tightly, calling upon the void anew and as long as his hold onto his cleansing ability was shaken … Her breath came quick and sharp, and she felt the rush of energy pulsing through her as she coated her enemy in fire. He screamed and fell.

“Well, that’s what I call a nasty fight”, said Dorian, approaching her from the other side of the battlefield, alongside Solas and Cassandra. “Why I am not surprised? ‘Oh, look, three mages alone on the road, let’s ambush them!’”

Siryn sighed. “I wanted to take people with me whom I trust, and …” She groaned when sudden hot, sharp pain shot through her right arm.

“You are injured”, she heard Solas say.

She glanced at her right arm. Her sleeve was drenched in blood, and sliced. “Oh …” The Templar she’d fought mere moment ago had to have cut her, and she hadn’t noticed it in the head of the battle … But now the pain returned with force.

“Well, don’t look at me. I’m terribly sorry, but I’m no healer.” Dorian sighed. “As much as I wished I could help. The cut looks nasty.”

It was Solas’ hand upon her shoulder touching her, his voice – calm and soothing – which guided her to a rock a few steps away as he ordered: “Sit down.”

She obliged and sat, hissing through grinded teeth when he touched her marred skin. “Stay still.” He drew a small knife from his belt and cut off the sliced remains of her sleeve until her injured arm lay bare.

His fingers upon her marred skin were amazingly gentle … Her skin tickled were he had touched her. Siryn felt her breath quicken, heat rushing through her body, creeping into her cheeks …

She winced when his fingers touched the torn, and grinded her teeth against the sudden pain. She had survived the painful procedure of having vallaslin etched into her skin, had sat quiet for hours without a single scream leaving her lips while Deshanna applied the markings of an adult. She would not cry now.

A cool sensation, foreign and strangely familiar, seemed to pool into the wound from where Solas fingers rested at her arm. Something inside her resonated to his magic … A shiver waved through her ever so slightly and she felt the pain fading away.

“I advise that you favour your arm for the remaining day.” Solas took his hand off her arm and she felt a stab of disappointment as his fingers retreated.

She glanced down. While still blood-drenched, the large cut had faded to the faint red line of a new scar trailing down her arm, and as she traced the newly mended skin with her fingers, it felt sensitive under her touch.

 _“Ma serannas,_ Solas.”

 _„_ _Sathem lasa halani_ _.”_ He cocked his head ever so slightly, a subtle frown furrowing his brow. “Yet it surprises me that you have no mastery of healing magic.”

“So far I had not had much success in learning it.” She had never been quite adept in healing magic at all. To summon down fire and lightning or to move inanimate objects through sheer force of her will had never give her much trouble, but healing magic demanded from her to enter a meditation like state and imagine the body both as it had been before the injury and as it was now … She had never found the patience to master it. “I know how to ease pain and how to mend small cuts, but … It’s difficult magic.”

“Ah …” Solas’s eyes lingered upon her face, the slight frown still creasing brow.

“But the magic you used was different.” She squared her shoulders. “I'm familiar enough with healing magic to tell that your spell was different from those taught by our keeper.”

“I learned magic differently than you.” Solas stood up. “Some of my spells are techniques long lost to time, discovered in the Fade and taught by spirits.”

“It was … quite the amazing sensation, to be honest.” She rose from the rock, lowering her newly healed arm to her side.

“Thank you.” His gaze lingered upon her face, and his lips twisted for moments into the faintest of smiles. “Though I would prefer not to have to heal you again.”

She returned his smile. “Me too. I don’t wish for any more scars.”

His eyes seemed to trace the long, uneven scar along her temple, lingering for moments upon her face, and for duration of a heartbeat there was a subtle yet undeniable glint in his eyes as he looked at her …

Her breath caught in her throat, but then he stiffened.

“We should continue our journey”, he said and turned around, and the strange moment had passed.

 

 


End file.
